Hitsuzen
by AGENT Kuma-chan
Summary: 35fantasies. SasuSaku, AU. Inevitable. No matter what road they took, they'd meet somehow. 7. The world is burning, slowly, and she knows who to blame.
1. Memories

**Title:** Memory

**Community:** 35Fantasies

**Pairing:** Uchiha Sasuke x Haruno Sakura

**Theme:** 01. Tears of a Phoenix

**A/N:** This isn't exactly a fantasy one…I'll make the next one more fantasy-like, but this one stemmed from the fact that phoenix tears are supposed to heal any wound.

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"He's ready, Sakura-san," one of the nurses—she doesn't remember who—tells her as she enters the hallway. "If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask."

Trembling fingers buttoning up her coat, Sakura tries to give a reassuring grin. "I never do need any help with him nowadays."

The nurse doesn't miss the nervous twitching, the constant smoothening of her coat. "I didn't mean with him."

"Oh." Biting her lip, she shakes her head. "I'm fine." Picking up the clipboard from the table nearby, she flips through the papers, deciphering the messy scrawls and elegant cursive letters. "He was calm last night?"

"Yes." The nurse sighs, noticing the change of topic, but doesn't bring it up. "Quiet and calm, like usual. Not a change at all."

"Really…" Sakura's words are quieter now, the nurse straining to hear them though the hall is empty except for them. Louder, she continues, "I'll go see him then."

The walls are a pale yellow due to the lights, a sickly yellow that she tries to avoid staring at. **248, 256, 262,** the numbers on the doors increase rapidly as she approaches the final door. There are only a few patients on this floor, a few that sometimes screech in her ears with their laughter and calls.

(They know, they mock, they taunt…)

Even though the nurses enjoy their company sometimes—_he's a good chess player, you know_—she can only see the hidden words behind their stares.

Those patients know that _he_ is worse off than them.

Those patients know that she is suffering more than they are.

**290.**

She stops at the door, stares at the brass numbers. They haven't been polished in a while, smudges and dust coating it lightly. Not a good thing in a hospital but they have been understaffed lately. Maybe she should do the job herself.

Her fingers rap the door lightly, almost fearfully. She knows that there won't be an answer but still she waits for one.

(_What are you doing here?_)

Her watch slowly ticks, snip, snip, snip, and her hand remains poised over the door. She waits—waits for him, always for him—for a few minutes before finally turning the doorknob and opening it herself.

(_I don't know._)

The sudden light startles her and she quietly _tsks_ under her breathe, going to the windows to lower the blinds a little. The last nurse forgot to close them properly, leaving them completely open instead of half-closed. Didn't she know that his eyes are sensitive?

A small noise brings her out of her thoughts and she finally turns to see him. A silhouette against the wall, his hair is in messy spikes and clothes a little rumpled.

"You're a mess again, Sasuke," she complains, making her voice as loud and annoying as possible. "A complete mess. If I didn't know better, I'd say Naruto came and did this to you."

There's no sharp response from his lips, just his eyes moving slightly to watch her. She pretends he spoke as she continues. "He can get the better of you sometimes. Not always, but there are times. And yes, I will keep pulling your hair like that because it is messy and in tangles. For someone who doesn't do anything all day, you somehow get more tangle than I do. I don't carry a comb with me everywhere. Hey! This one was from your bedside table. Hmph!"

It's a one-sided conversation. She knows his responses like she knows her hand. He's a page she memorized from a book that no longer exists.

"Maybe later this evening I can take you out to the garden. I know you don't like flowers as much but they're nice and I like them." Her chatter fills up the room and she keeps waiting for that sign to stop.

(_Why do you like talking so much?_)

Sasuke still doesn't say anything. Sometimes he adjusts himself so she has an easier time and he can do the basics. Changing his clothes, walking, simple things aren't hard for him.

It's ironic because he used to love puzzles and complex problems, things that made him think and twist his mind to solve. He used to find new things to break and fix everyday until she grew tired of having machine carcasses lying around their house.

(_Because you don't like too talk much. Besides, you love my voice, don't you?_)

"Wait a moment—I'll go and get your lunch. Plenty of tomatoes." She gives him a quick grin and turns to leave when his hand latches onto her wrist. She stills, his hand cool on her skin, and a familiar ache spreads across her.

There is a glimmer in his eyes, a glimmer that she remembers from the start of the story. "Sa—" he starts to say, his voice tripping over a name he once knew as well as his own, his hand clutching hers tighter. He starts and she stops, waiting, waiting, waiting.

(Will it happen this time? Will the spell be broken? Will—)

Just as quick as it came, the glimmer disappears and he stares at his hand in confusion. She's a faded memory once more and he's lost in the abyss of his mind. Smiling softly (brokenly), she gently releases his fingers. "I'll go and get your lunch."

He gets so close sometimes that she can't stop herself from hoping that maybe their story will reach the end. Only the prince is still stuck in the first chapter and the maiden is waiting at the last, with a whole section between them. Sometimes she can see him, a glimpse in the mirror, but it only happens once in a while. Then it dies, like it always does, and she's left wanting more.

And the worst part is that he never knows what's happening, what he keeps finding only to lose it again.

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	2. Far Off Horizon

**Title:** _The Far-Off Horizon_

**Pairing:** Sasuke/Sakura

**Theme:** #29 // Awakening Dream

**Summary:** _She was always staring out that window, out to something he could never see. To something no one, perhaps, could ever see but her._

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She is always sitting up on the bed when he comes to visit. It has a thin mattress—he will have to get it replaced before his next visit, Sasuke notes—and the frame somehow manages to retain a bright bronze look even though no one has cleaned it in years. The faded green blanket is threadbare, covering her legs. It probably doesn't keep her warm enough, so he will have to replace it as well, even though he has never heard a single complaint from her.

Maybe that is a part of her nature or maybe she realizes any complaints are for small matters, things that really don't count in the large scheme of things. If she asks for it, her barely furnished room can be filled with the latest of products and comfy enough for a princess. She has the power, if she wants to use it.

She never does.

Instead, it is a dreary room with only the large window brightening it.

As usual, when he opens the door and entered the room, she is staring at the sky. Her eyes never stray from that deep blue sky, not even when he comes in. It doesn't matter if there are clouds or if there are stars, whenever he visits her she is always staring at that sky.

Other guards, curious about their important charge, would ask him, "What does she see out there?"

He has no answers to that. He never bothered to ask—it isn't a part of his duties to know—so he would give a quick shrug or, when pressed, a simple answer. "There's nothing for her to do in that room. No books, no toys. Boredom is a likely answer." It would be enough to satisfy the guards.

Not that he believes that is the answer. What he thinks is of no consequence anyways—he isn't paid to think over such trivial matters.

"You're back," she finally utters after he has been kneeling at the foot of her bed for ten minutes. He takes that as a sign to stand. She still hasn't turned to him and he can't see her face properly, her long pink locks blocking his view.

"Yes, Haruno-sama."

She purses her lips. "I told you to call me 'Sakura' or 'Sakura-sama', at the very least."

"…that would be going too far."

She sighs, a large sound for such a tiny girl. "I suppose. At least you are calling me by my name now. It's nice to hear someone else say my name, Sasuke-san."

She is annoyed with him, he can tell. Apparently she only reacts to him these days. Before, she would talk to others that came to her room but in short, clipped sentences that revealed nothing of value. Gradually, those visitors stopped coming, discouraged by her behaviour.

It is with him that she gives conversations, words that expressed herself and her gifts. At times she would talk in riddles, only to give him what he came for in the end.

While she can talk to others, she never looks at anyone but him. When others come, her eyes remain trained on the sky but with him, she will take them back to her guest.

Perhaps that is why he is valuable. Besides his talents in the battlefield, he is their connection to her.

Sasuke is determined to make the most of it.

Her lips part to ask a question but she stops herself. Returning to earth, she turns to face him and he finally sees her green eyes.

Good. She is willing to help, then.

"What do you want to know?" she asks, sighing, breaking the silence and darkening the light. With her powers, she can probably guess the question right away but she craves their conversations. A little touch of humanity, a little taste of something different. It keeps her going during the days and months she spends in this room.

"Are there any unexpected surprises for our next battle?" Sasuke asks, watching her carefully. It is his job, should she ever go too deep in a trance, to drag her out of it.

As she nods, her eyes glaze over and slowly fade from the edges inwards. The dark forest green transforms into a soft spring green before disappearing into white. She stares at him but doesn't see him. It is a disorienting feeling, uncomfortable at worst, and he patiently waits until she is done.

Another reason they are matched up; his patience. He can wait the minutes or hours it takes for her to finish her foreseeing. Even though he knows that she can have this all done before hand, he still doesn't mind waiting.

("I like a little company now and then," she told him. "Even if I don't act like it, I do enjoy it sometimes. So when I do get it, why cut it short?"

He ignored the fact that he was the only one who visited her anymore.)

This time the wait is short for it is only a few minutes later that she blinks and her eyes are a bright shade of green, the grass on a sunny day. There is a small gasp as she returns to herself and reality and she shivers slightly.

She does notice the cold, so the new blanket is a priority.

"An ambush will happen."

"When?"

"In…three days," she counts her fingers to make sure, thinking the events she saw. "In three days, approximately noon."

"Where?" All these questions are there for her benefit. She doesn't like answering otherwise and would leave out information then.

"A…wooden bridge." He had suspected so. "A long wooden bridge. A defector will betray your location."

"A defector?" They don't have very many—the soldiers value their lives too much. "What does he look like?"

"He has long white hair, wild and messy. They are cut unevenly and he has slate grey eyes. His fingers are covered in dirty bandages."

Sasuke pulls out his notebook and starts to write down everything she told him. After checking he got everything he needs, he gives her a quick, "Thank you."

She watches as he elegantly adds a few more notes and wonders what else he is adding. His fingers are long and she wonders if his hands are rough. Looking at her own, she tries to imagine what it would feel like to touch someone.

It is hard, her memory of it too long ago.

"You might die this time." She drops the bomb and waits for the reaction.

Sasuke doesn't disappoint. His fingers pause in mid-stroke, unable to decide whether to continue or to stop, and he stiffens slightly. Then, get over the surprise, he asks, "How?"

"…" She wonders what would happen if she refuses to tell him and he dies. He'd probably be replaced by someone she hates and wouldn't talk to, resulting in force. Even worse would be a replacement she liked him too much. Then she would be even more aware of what she missed in here.

At least with Sasuke, she doesn't hate or like him. Besides, she is a little attached to him, even if it is only because there is no one else to get attached to. She only eats the meals he brings in, distrusting the other maids who bring them in when he's gone. When's he not there, she doesn't bother to eat.

Running a hand through her hair, she shakes her head at her thoughts. She can't let him die yet. "The day after the bridge, there is an old tree. A man is lying in wait for a general who you will rescue and get badly hurt in the process off."

Her eyes leave his after that, turning once more at the sky as he starts writing again. Sometimes, when he's gone, she stands by that window and stares down at the soldiers running across the yard. They look like tiny dolls to her and she can't understand why they had to drag her into their fight like this.

(Whatever happened to fighting fair?)

Sasuke watches her out of the corner of his eye, notices her withdrawing into herself once more. She tends to do that when she realizes he's about to leave, a child protecting herself from pain. Transforming into a doll once more, he averts his eyes from her face before he can see how blank they are turning.

He adds to the list a plant, something to keep her occupied while she waits in-between visits.

Turning to leave, he is surprised to hear her speak once more. "Do you ever visit because you want to?" There is another question in her voice, a hint of longing and want.

She watches him bow once more and leave, not answering her question. It's fine, she knows the truth already, without even looking for it. It's fine, she tells herself, and wills herself to believe it.

Sakura knows the truth just as she recognizes the cold metal on her ankles or the clank of chains when she walks.

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**A/N:** I think this is longer than the last one…

I planned on having Sasuke using her first name somewhere near the end, to show a small change in his thoughts, but it just didn't fit in properly…*sigh*

Next one will be more cheerful, I promise.


	3. The Pact

**Title:** _The Pact_

**Pairing:** Sasuke/Sakura

**Theme:** #28 // Summoning

**A/N:** A lighter one that the last two, though...this did not come out as expected...

**Summary:** _She certainly is powerful, but he isn't sure this is exactly what he had in mind._

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It starts out as expected. The wind blows harshly, the trees sway wildly, and it is all he can do to remain standing. Not that he lets anyone know that—his face remains impassive, his body straight as an arrow.

In the middle of the field in front of him, a small circle of light appears. It grows, a new moon becoming full, and a steady roar is all that he can hear. A waterfall's thunder, speaking of hidden currents and power and majesty.

It is something he wants, especially the power.

At his right, a small blob of yellow lies on the ground. The ground shakes, crumbling and reforming itself around the beam, and he has to squint to see.

Still, it is as it should be.

In the sky, the pearl clouds cover the midnight sun.

-x-

If you want to summon something, there are a few things you should have.

First, a spell book. Names mean everything in this game, the difference between summoning the lord of thunder or the moon's rabbit. A small misspelling, a slight mispronunciation, and all is lost.

It does, after all, take a few months to prepare. A few weeks if you are good.

And Sasuke _is_ good. That much is expected, considering who his parents are, considering what blood that runs through his veins. He was not given magic, he was born into it. Reading materials were the various methods of using power, lessons were on tactics and ancient wizards, meals were conjured up by him.

He used to spend his free time in his room, an old pencil in his hand and yellowed paper on his desk. It would crinkle as he drew runes upon runes over it, always careful not to complete them lest he accidentally cause something.

Perfection was what he craved and so became what he is. What he drew to summon he had practiced a hundred times.

Which is why, when he sees what he has summoned, Sasuke doesn't look down at the carvings until two hours after the fact.

-x-

His first summoning—not really, when he thought of it. He had summoned since he was eight but this was the first summoning he did on his own.

No parents, no brother. He did this one in a field in the backyard, away from prying eyes.

Sasuke's first summoning produced a wily boy with airy hair and a strong sense of self-preservation. He had been trying to summon a fox spirit, a cunning one, but instead he got a slip of a boy.

_Naruto_ is what the fox called himself. Apparently this was his human form, the shape he took to save energy.

Acceptable. Understandable.

Sasuke hadn't bargained for the human form to come with a personality to boot. Especially one that would get him into so much trouble.

This summoning—his first one after the failure of a fox—is also human-shaped and he almost cringes when he thinks he is in store for a second Naruto.

Almost, but doesn't. He is a Uchiha, after all, and certain standards have to be held.

-x-

The second thing you need to summon is a lot of time and patience. Drawing the circle, precisely, perfectly, will take at least a day. More, if you are summoning a powerful creature.

Sasuke always aims for the top, so this took approximately a week. It didn't help that Naruto would accidentally erase a mark or smudge something or...

Well, it wasn't helpful at all that Naruto was being Naruto.

-x-

"Eh?" is the first sound to come out of the clearing. A female voice, a little high-pitched and confused, repeats the sound before tumbling out of the pillar of light.

The beam stops immediately after and she stumbles onto the ground. Sasuke covers his eyes slightly, peering at her through a crack as he adjusts to the lack of light. At this time Naruto sits up, the wind stops blowing, and the sun emerges once more.

"Hey, Sasuke-teme, it's a girl!" His voice is chirping and excited and loud.

It grates on Sasuke's ears, the headache that comes after using this much power already starting, and without missing a beat, he punches the boy.

Already Sasuke is seeing two, three, four versions of this girl getting up off the ground. The world is a little hazy but it will come to pass soon enough.

"Of course I am a girl!" she yells back, indignant, and also not helping the roaring pain.

She's too far away to hit so he uses some more magic to keep her quiet.

_Not a good idea,_ he thinks to himself as he stumbles slightly, _definitely not a good idea._ The headache grows and the haze turns into a dense cloud.

He hasn't used this much power since he was seven and trying a spell for the first time—a spell that was far too above his level.

Just what had he summoned?

He doesn't think much more on this subject as, to his shame, he collapses two seconds later.

-x-

The third thing one needs when summoning is to have a lot of power, more than the thing summoned at the very least. It needs to be demonstrated to the summoned being every now and then to prove just who is boss.

That is the reason that Sasuke fights with Naruto so much—the fox-boy just doesn't understand that he is not the master, _Sasuke_ is.

As Sasuke drifts back into consciousness, he registers a cool hand on his forehead and two voices worriedly whispering over him.

Fainting in front of the summoned spirit just minutes after she arrives...probably not a good show of power.

Trying to make up for it, Sasuke tries blinking his eyes and sitting up but the hand forces him down just as he raises his head.

"Not yet," the voice is firm and gentle, like his mother's. Like the sloping hills. He almost obeys when he realizes who it is.

He gets up the second time, brushing away the hand and ignoring the dizziness that comes with this.

"Is he always like this?" This time the voice is annoyed.

"Nah," Naruto replies, chuckling. "Sometimes he—"

"Naruto." With that, the fox stops talking. Good, his magic has returned for the most part. Opening his eyes, he turns to see the first speaker.

The first thing he sees is a pair of ancient green eyes and fluttering pink hair. The wind has started again, probably as a pact has yet to be formed and she is only still here on borrowed time. Then he sees the pale, moon-like skin, and for a moment he fears he did summon the moon's rabbit.

Then he remembers her rough palm, the grains of soil that fell off his forehead as he rose, and he knows better.

"Can you control the earth?"

Her eyes narrow slightly, judging his character instantly. A sharp canine chews her lip and she nods once. "I can. Are you then the one who summoned me and the one that wants to be _my_ master?"

He doesn't miss the stress on the 'my', the arrogance of it, and smirks briefly.

"Indeed, you will be _my_ servant."

She snorts. "Presumptuous human, automatically assuming that I shall be yours."

"I have summoned you and as soon as the pact is formed, you shall be." There are no doubts to this. Summonings enjoy their first taste of the world after remaining as spirits for so long and she is just the same. He can see her hands digging into the earth, her face tilted up to the sun.

She wants to stay and will do what he wants in order to do so.

"True, but my pact demands are high. Higher still than the Kyuubi's was." Naruto's eyes widen at this. "I knew him, just as I once knew you, Naruto. But you have forgotten it—just as I wished. I had hoped to not be summoned for some time yet but this foolish mortal has done so."

Sasuke frowns at this and coolly replies. "You are, _foolish_ summoning, forgetting who has kept you here for so long without a pact. I can just as quickly stop my magic from keeping you here."

A small graces her lips and she looks at once gentle, no longer the perilous cliff she was a moment ago. "A fiery one! I have not had one in eons. And," she gives him a critical once-over, her now-soft hands tilting his face. He jerks away but he can still feel the fingers dancing on his skin. "And a pretty one too."

"Don't touch me again."

"We shall see about that," she says with a practiced air, and just as her skin changed her language does too. "Now, my handsome wanna-be master, think you can handle the pact?"

"Of course."

"Stubborn, aren't you? Let's see how long that lasts." She leans closer, giving him a brief kiss. It isn't long, the span of a blink, but already he can feel his power draining from him into her, a complete circuit, before he can breathe again.

The electricity still stays on his lips, a charge wanting to escape, and he knows without a doubt that she will take more away from him.

"That's step one," she tells him, pursing her lips. "We will have to do this again tomorrow and it will be a month before it's done. You need to grow stronger, though. This is barely enough to maintain my human form, let alone my actual shape."

"Who are you?" The question leaves him before he can stop it. Her pact is different from the others, no blood marks or verbal vows. The magic used is greater, his strength nearly sapped, and it is only because he is sitting that he can still look her straight on.

"Me?" There is a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, a mock-modest tone to her voice. "Let's say you summoned one of Earth's pillars and be done with that."

It will be six months before he discovers that he has summoned a being a step below a god, eight before he discovers just what her identity is, and a year before he can really handle the least of her energy demands.

(It will be two years and then some for him to get used to her emotional fits.)

At this point, though, all he can see is the sly twist of her mouth and wonder just what he has gotten himself into.

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	4. The Shadow

**Title:** The Shadow

**Prompt:** #22 // Tower of Darkness

**A/N:** Um, slightly inspired by _Fifth Business_ by Robertson Davies and by Karl Jeung's theories. So, there will be a few references to archtypes because I am nerdy enough to do that. This one is a bit short.

And the recent Naruto chapters? WHAT THE HELL? Seriously? Not only is Sasuke an idiot, but now Naruto is one too?

**Summary:** _He is no prince and she is no longer the damsel in distress._

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"Sakura," he says and she hurls herself at him, snarling. Her arms swipe at his face, her teeth are bared, and he can see the wild animal in her. Then she jerks back, the chain wrapped around her limbs stretching taunt as she regains her balance. Her feet scuff at the dirty bricks as she tries to take another step forward.

"What do you want?" Her voice comes out dark and low, whispering of unnamed threats, and he smirks with amusement. The irony of the situation is not lost to him. He once had those eyes, he thinks.

Sasuke watches her for a moment, glancing at her messy locks and at the dried blood on her arms. There is a light sheen of sweat on her and he notes the swelling around her ankles. She tried too hard to break the metal again. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. "Say yes."

For a moment, they stare at each other. Half of her face is painted in shadow, her eyes wide at his comment. Her lips part and his ears barely hear her words.

"What?"

"I--"

Sakura isn't talking to him. "What?" she repeats, her eyes narrowing with each passing second, her voice slowly rising. The barred windows let in little light, the sun slowly sinking in the distance. The light diminishing , she's thrown further into shadow.

(She's becoming him.)

"You..." For a moment, she pauses, unable to find the words. "You come in here, expecting a yes? You...after all...you...this is what you ask me? Now? After..." Knowing it will just hurt her in the end, Sakura restrains herself. The cold metal lies heavy on her ankles and wrists. "Never."

Her fists clench.

They are at a standstill. A cool breeze ruffles her broken clothing but she doesn't shiver. She's stronger than that.

"Naruto is still alive."

If he expects her to calm down, he is sorely mistaken. If anything, it enrages her further. "He's alive? For how much longer?" she roars, her nails scraping at her palm. "He might as well be dead, considering how you left him. Considering how he's still hunted." An untamed fury runs through her and she tries to pull her arms once more, ignoring the chains halting her movements.

There is a slight clinking as the metal links hit one another in her haste to get up. She charges, the bolts slowly starting to give as a soft glow surrounds her. The light that is her namesake, the light that is the reason for this union, starts to grow stronger. Something in him weakens slightly (doesn't light banish the dark?) at this sight. For a moment, he allows himself to be bathed in this warmth, to sink into its comfort. Then he returns to who he is, the prince of darkness, the ruler of the night. A nod to the guard outside and she approaches, carrying the medicine in a silver tray.

"Sakura, whether you agree to it or not, it will happen. It's just easier if you agree."

"You've never chosen the easy route before, why start now?" Her lips twist in a grimace as sparks of electricity run through her, causing her to fall to the floor. Limply, Sakura tries to move once more but a stronger current rushes in.

(_See_? Sakura's mother told her once, _Shadows are something to be feared and pitied--they both weaken and strengthen you. _Where is that strength her mother once told her of?)

Sasuke ignores her screams, watching sedately as they inject her once more. "We will get married tomorrow."

"You bastard. I hate you," she murmurs. "I hate you."

"You loved me once." He's too calm, too patient to be the madman she knows he is, Sakura thinks.

"Once. That was a long time ago. I'm not foolish enough to make the same mistake twice. You are no prince." Weakly, she pulls at the chains. "I am no longer a princess, waiting to be rescued."

"..." He stares at her for a moment. "In time, then." Turning around, he leaves the room.

"Never. I...will always....hate you." Her eyes droop and the last thing she sees are his feet, marching further into the past.

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Just for those who are wondering about said archtypes (or at least, what I used...):

Shadow: Our "dark side", characterized by inferior, uncivilized, or animal qualities which we wish to hide from others.

Animus: the unconcious masculine side of a women's personality.

Rich Young Prince: The shadow prince can manifest as a young man with great feelings of power. one who stands to inherit an evil empire and so takes on all negative characteristics of the "King" (_MADARA_).

Sleeping Princess: Often the princess will fall for the prince but the relationships rarely work out.

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Donate to the review bank!


	5. Bronze to Gold

**Title:** Bronze to Gold

**Theme:** 06 / alchemy secrets

**A/N:** Ending seems a bit...fast to me...But, yay! I updated! And I've been reading Ondaatje again, hence the style...

**Summary:** _She is an alchemist, one of a dying breed, creating miracles out of wishes._

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The sun burns brightly, hotly, on the pair as they trek across the vast desert. One figure marches, confident and strong, ahead of the other, the rolling dunes an ocean between the two.

She stops, staring at the sky for a moment, before sitting down. It's a clear blue, the clouds speckling it here and there. The sand feels soft to the touch, her hands sinking in it before she can find a solid spot. He doesn't turn around, not at first, and she spends those moments watching him.

His footsteps are exact, one in front of the other in quarter notes. Consistency, that is something he prides himself for and something she acknowledges.

His strength and skills are consistent, just as his silence and scorn is.

-x-

She is the one who chooses when they set up camp. As they cross this monster, this quiet beast of grain and heat, she will randomly decide she has had enough walking and just plunk down.

The first few times he didn't catch on until he walked a good kilometre ahead of her. He only realized she stopped due to the silence, her voice no longer a constant drone flitting in one ear and out the other. Turning, he saw that she was sitting patiently behind him, her pastel hair moving with a barely existing breeze.

When he walked back, calling her weak, she gave him a short smile, her forest green eyes hardening into jade.

"I'm not tired," she corrected, "Just ready to try again."

-x-

They don't talk to each other much during their journey. She does speak, on and on, but with meaningless words. People, places, things she's seen and he's never believed, they escape her easily. He never deigns to reply, merely grunts when she pauses or gives her a look when she has been rambling for too long.

The secrets of her trade, however, remain looked inside her, a sealed safe. She never mentions a word about what she does each time they set up camp, the flaps of her tent shut to his eyes. She spends hours there each afternoon, smoke and explosions of light escaping under the cracks and crannies. Sometimes he feels curious, standing guard in the empty wasteland. Barely a shadow dances across the sand, the silhouette of a hawk, and time passes by slowly when it seems like he is surrounded by the sun.

Though she never said he couldn't look, he never breaches those clothe doors. He comes from a village where keeping secrets are as necessary to life as breathing, sense alert for the slightest danger.

He knows there are some things that shouldn't be revealed.

-x-

"Are you Uchiha Sasuke? From Konoha?" she asked when they first met. She was standing outside the village gates, idly fiddling with the trinkets attached to her bag when he strode down the path.

A nod-silent gestures are nearly all he knows, silent gestures and an arrogance that seeps from his pores-and she gave a brilliant smile. "I'm Haruno Sakura, your charge. I understand you know where you are taking me already."

Another nod-it was a good thing Naruto wasn't around. A man of noises and exclamations, he would have complained about the lack of communication.

"Haruno-"

"Sakura," she interrupted firmly, "Call me Sakura."

A wall of formality had to separate them and he repeated himself. "Haruno-"

"Sakura."

"Haruno."

"Sakura. Nice to see you know my name."

She grinned cheekily at him, her eyes twinkling as she resisted the urge to laugh. Growling slightly, he suppressed the annoyed part of him.

"Annoying. _Sakura_, we shall leave immediately. Follow my orders if you want to make it there safely."

"Yes, sir!" She gave him a mock salute, one he ignored as he turned around and walked back up the path. This woman-girl, by the way she acted, he couldn't figure it out. What made her so important that the king himself requested his assistance?

He just couldn't see it.

-x-

Sakura is, in a sense, pretty. Not beautiful, not cute, just pretty. Her forehead, though the frame of her hair hides it at times, is too large for her to be beautiful, her features too plain for her to be above average. Her emerald eyes and her striking hair colour shock for a moment but nothing else.

If anything, she has a spirit he can admire. During the day, though he'll never admit it, she manages to keep up with him as they follow a dirt path, the trees sheltering them from the world. Even when they have to cross the desert, she makes only the smallest complains, most of them without any expectations of reprieve. She's tough and of good stock, and for that he doesn't mind her company.

What he does mind, though, are the ways she eyes him sometimes, as though he is one of those puzzles she likes to play with while they travel. She sometimes makes a comment, an odd jab, intent on finding a piece that explains everything.

Sasuke isn't quite sure what will happen if she does solve him but he isn't taking any chances.

-x-

One night, she opens the doors and beckons him to enter. He always just watches, she notices whenever she comes out to eat. The food is always cooked already, his movements similar to those of a ghost. He flows from area to area, his gait a smooth slide, and she is hardly ever aware of his actions.

It only makes her more curious to find out just how one has to be raised to be like this.

He never looks inside her tent, a mercy she is glad of. The work she does is highly secretive with records stolen nearly every day on the alchemists' works. She is one of a dying breed, few left knowing the right techniques to change stone to gold, metal to fire.

Sasuke seems trust-worthy enough for this rare chance to see an alchemist's workshop.

Moving past the cool cloth, he blinks slightly in the dim light. Bottles perch on a small table, tubes curling around round bases and invisible particles as they weave in and out of openings. In one corner, a small fire is lit, three pans filled with some liquid he can't recognize. The heavy scent of phosphorous and sulphur lies in the air.

A cursory glance, examining each object with his eye, and he turns to leave.

-x-

There is only a day left of travel and Sakura thinks she'll miss this mute guard of hers, his cocky smirks, his sharp tongue. He doesn't talk too much, more in a cryptic code when he does speak, but he is a little more open than he used to be. She can get him to talk sometimes, about serious things, but nothing too personal.

He walks ahead of her, no longing in the steps he makes. Typical, he probably won't remember her after tomorrow. His dark clothes, covered in patches of green shades, blends in with the forest they are now crossing.

A little further and they'll make it to the king. She has yet to complete the formula he wants and though she has no doubt she'll be able to do so, Sakura wishes she could finish it right now. This very moment as they walk, the birds calling one another, the leaves rustling in response.

Maybe then he'll remember her.

-x-

It's one in the morning and she should be sleeping. Her shadow stretches across the canvass, her movements like clock-work as she moves from one side to another.

He remains still, listening for danger. Any noise he hears now comes from her, the soft cursing when she bangs her hand, the muffled irritation when something makes a popping noise.

Soon the night will be quieter once more, only him and his breathing. He doubts he'll ever escape her noise, though, haunting his waking thought.

"YES!" She screams suddenly, her body flying out the tent as she dances around him. "I did it!" Now it probably is an hour before he normally wakes her, the sun starting to rise behind him. Sakura will probably fall asleep as they walk, as she nearly did the last two nights this happened. He'll have to carry everything, including her, once more.

Her hands wrap around his arm, dragging him behind her as she heads back to the tent. "Look! I did it!"

She lets go abruptly, clasping a small metal pan instead. He can barely see inside, the glow of it bright in the darkness.

Glancing up at her face, he stills, watching for a moment. Her smile is even brighter, almost infectious.

It is at moments like this when he thinks she might, just might, be beautiful.

...

...

...

...

...


	6. Call of Duty

**Title:** Call of Duty

**Prompt:** 07. knight's honour

**A/N:** So, instead of giving a whole story, there are three excerpts from a story. I'm a little experimental in this piece because it is hard for me to just write a scene and not give either the background or the whole story. D:

Um. And sorry for extremely late updates. I'm back, though. =D

**Summary: **_What has honour gotten him—and the answer to that is not pleasant. _

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start

"Sasuke, this is Haruno Sakura. She is your betrothed." Fugaku glances at his youngest son for a moment before turning to the lady in question. "Sakura, this is Uchiha Sasuke, my youngest son."

"Hello," she curtsies, bowing her head slightly at the two. They are still of a higher rank than her and she must not forget that. Catching her father's eye, she offers her hand to her husband-to-be.

He's handsome, she can tell that much with his dark eyes and gently ruffled hair. His skin might be pale, even more so than hers, but that just underlies the hidden strength in his body.

He is a knight after all.

When he doesn't take her hand, his father accepts it and kisses it instead. "A pleasure."

It's a little rude; she tries not to appear miffed. Until the formal ceremony has occurred, any mistake can break the arrangement.

(And her father, his eyes boring into the back of her head, is the reason she must not fail.)

"It is nice to meet you," she starts, running through her thoughts for something else to say.

(_youmustnotfail)_

Her smile slips a little, despite all this, when after an hour he still doesn't look at her.

middle

For two months, they play a game.

Sakura tries to talk to him, get him to open up. She cooks meals and cleans his room. Flowers are placed in vases and sunlight let in. She tries to ride with him, watch him train, wrap his wounds. The perfect wife, the best friend, the silent watcher, she takes on archetypes and roles and experiments with his possessions.

Still nothing gets through to him.

He dodges each invitation, steps away from any question, and when she goes to sleep at night, it's to an empty bed. Any move forward she makes, he takes two back, and sometimes all she does is succeed at annoying him.

The only time he touched her was on their wedding night, the only time he looked at her was that first kiss, the only time he spoke without an edge was when he led the way to his room.

She hates this absent husband of hers.

(And yet, and yet, she sometimes wakes up to find his arms around hers, grip tight, wakes to find her wilted flowers thrown out and a maid entering with breakfast, has actual conversations over dinner.

These times are rare and few between and they might just be a dream.)

end

He gasps. His fingers shakily staunch his wound, the blood slipping out of his fingers and splashing the earth. There are war cries and the smell of burning and broken corpses pile at his feet. Clenching, his right hand tries to grip the sword.

There is still a battle to be won, still enemies on the field. His legs shake and his world tilts and still he tries to move forward.

He must win today, his honour is at stake.

Yet, even as he thinks this, as he raises his sword and moves his feet, he is already falling.

He can't get up, not yet, and lies there for a moment. Someone's arms is under his stomach and he shifts slightly so it doesn't dig into his open wound.

Getting up is imperative.

(and he sees glittering green eyes and an angry snarl, her hand still imprinted on his cheek, something resigned in her tone as he rides away, her figure shrinking, that first meeting-)

He needs to get up.

(There is a part of him that sighs, and doubts, for what has honour given him besides cracked ribs and bleeding arms.)

He still lies there, as the battle gets quieter, his eyes closing as he tries to take in the pain. She's probably still waiting for him, standing by the door as though he'll ride back in one piece.

(There is a part of him that wonders, just a little, what would have happened had he taken that hand.

It's too late for regrets now.)


	7. Promise

**Title:** Promise

**Theme:** 23. Burning city

**Summary:** _There was nothing left of their home, just the ashes at the tip of her tongue. _

…

…

…

…

She could taste the heat on her lips, scalding her skin. Smoke clogged her nose, blinded her eyes, and she relied entirely on her sense of feel to escape the fire.

He shouldn't have done this.

Nothing was enough for him. Even with all the advances he had, the power he gained, it just wasn't enough.

(and a small part of her cried, defeated, _I wasn't enough._ But then again, she never was in the first place.)

Sasuke must be somewhere behind her, still burning down their home. Her home. He abandoned it when he had cast the first spell.

The flames were nearly everywhere now. Rubble stuck out in ungainly piles, causing her to trip and bruise as she tried to make her way out.

She hated him. There were children crying somewhere, a wife wailing for her husband, a man cursing the sky. There had been a dog barking somewhere before, but his voice stopped long ago.

Maybe, she gave a bitter smile, Sasuke killed him. He always liked cats better.

The smoke was addling her brain because now she felt like laughing and she still hadn't found a safe place yet.

One might no longer exist in this world.

"Sakura," the wind whispered. It sounded like his voice. It sounded like a promise.

She felt like crying now, because his eyes were red and his skin covered with dark tattoos when he started the rampage. The ink grew and his skin was darker and he was not Sasuke anymore.

He was a demon and she should have set up better barriers. She should have stopped him. Should have done something to save him.

(He trusted her, didn't he? He trusted her to do this one simple task and she failed.)

And now the demon was eating away at his mind, destroying all traces of her Sasuke. Of his soft smiles and gentle touches and cold stares.

"Sakura," the wind whispered once more.

"I know," she replied. "I'm coming."

Hopefully, it wasn't too late.

…

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…

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End file.
